Love Comes Home (15 page)

“Shh, its okay,” he whispered.

Her arms slid around his neck and she nuzzled closer, her cheek warm against his chest. She'd showered, and the scent of Griff's shampoo clung to her soft hair. He'd never considered the smell of green apples an aphrodisiac.

Thinking himself insane for putting himself through such torture, he hurried upstairs with her. By the light of the moon coming through the window he laid her down gently on the soft bed and rested her head on the pillow. Her arms tightened around his neck and she made a soft sound of protest deep in her throat as he tried to extract himself.

He leaned in a little, his face close to hers, her arms allowing some slack. Her breath teased the hair at his temple. He closed his eyes against the zing of pleas
ure ricocheting through his veins and crippling his heart.

Every instinct urged him to gather her close and give in to the feminine allure of Rachel. To abandon all thought, all conscience and reasoning, for one precious moment in her arms.

God help me.

By strength drawn only from his faith, Josh gently pried her arms lose and laid them beside her. She snuggled into the bed and turned on her side. He swallowed and quickly pulled up the lightweight blanket, covering her slender curves.

He backed out of the room, very much aware that Rachel Maguire slept in his house. He doubted he'd get any sleep tonight.

 

Rachel bolted upright. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the darkness broken slightly by the moonlight seeping through the crack of the curtain. She was in an unfamiliar room in a strange bed. Then it hit her. She smiled with pleasure. She was in Josh's house, apparently in the guest room.

She pushed the button on her watch and the circular dial lit up with a green glow. Two-forty in the morning.

The last thing she remembered was sitting on the couch with Griff, telling him the funnier stories from the E.R. The time was precious and she'd never felt so wanted or so satisfied. She belonged here with this family. Griff had finally dozed off and she must have, as well.

Tugging on the too-big sweatshirt she'd confiscated from Josh's dryer, pleasure welled up at the thought of Josh carrying her upstairs. With the way he'd re
acted when she'd stated she was staying, it was little wonder he hadn't carted her back to the hotel. But he hadn't. He'd made her comfortable. He'd taken care of her. She liked the idea of Josh caring for her.

Yawning sleepily, she slid her feet off the bed and onto the floor. She stood, swaying slightly as blood rushed to her head. When her equilibrium returned, she shuffled to the door and peeked into the dark hall. She bit her lip trying to remember which way to the bathroom. She shrugged and started out to her left. Her big toe connected with something hard and solid which in turn connected with the wall.

“Ouch,” she muttered at the small table, and steadied it with her hands, hoping the noise from the table scraping the wall hadn't disturbed anyone.

She tried the first door she came to, peering in. Griff's room. Pale moonlight shone on the sleeping boy. Rachel stood watching Griff sleep for a moment. He'd become so dear to her. Quietly she closed the door.

She turned to head the other way and ran into a big, firm mass. A small yelp escaped her.

“You okay?” Josh's groggy voice swept over her in the darkness, chasing away the last vestiges of sleep.

“Josh, you scared me,” she whispered back.

“Sorry. Heard a noise. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

His sleep-husky voice sent a thrill down her spine. He was worried about her. “Just looking for the bathroom.”

“Over here.” His hand reached out and found her shoulder. Bits of fire raced along her arm and she
trembled under the onslaught of emotions the heat sparked.

He guided her toward another door, opened it, flipped the switch and stepped back.

Rachel blinked in the sudden light. When she was able to focus, her heart twisted with tenderness. Josh looked so adorable standing there in his plaid flannel boxers and T-shirt, his hair mussed from sleep, his eyes drowsy and his expression unguarded. “Thank you for letting me sleep here tonight.”

He smiled a sweet, boyish smile that melted her heart. “Anytime.” He stepped forward and placed a feather-light kiss on her lips. “G'night.” He turned and shuffled down the dark hall.

Rachel's breath caught and held as she watched him disappear into a room. The gentle caress seared her, branded her as his.

But would he ever claim her?

H
er fingertips traced the warmth still lingering on her lips. He'd kissed her. Not a passionate, “I want you” kind of kiss, but a sweet, loving gesture that said “I care.” The poignant moment stretched as she considered the implications of that single little kiss.

He cared. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he cared. And if he cared, then love could follow. Not the same love from their teenage years. They were adults now. Different than they'd been back then. And their love would be different. If he could love her. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears.

If they loved each other enough, surely they could find a way to make their lives come together. A nagging feeling that tried to rob her of the hope of happiness warned that love hadn't been enough once.

She wouldn't let doubt interfere. So much had happened, changed. She'd changed. She would find a way to make this work. She held her breath.

Maybe they were being given another chance.

Oh, God. Please, please. I want Josh to see that I can be a wife, a mother
and
a doctor.

 

In the morning, Josh showered and dressed quickly. He checked on Griff who still slept soundly. He paused outside of the guest room door. He considered waking Rachel up and asking her to leave, but decided a note would do just as well. After his fitful night's sleep, he didn't think seeing her before he left would be a good thing. He'd dreamed way too much last night. And all of his dreams had centered on Rachel.

Quietly he went down the stairs. He headed for the kitchen, but a movement in his peripheral vision stopped him in his tracks. He turned slowly, his whole body becoming alert to Rachel's presence, but when he actually saw her, he wasn't prepared for the sight.

Stunned pleasure surged through his veins and his mind screamed what his heart wanted to deny. She shouldn't be wearing his old football jersey, the hem flirting with her knees. She shouldn't be moving so gracefully, her lithe slender body flowing through controlled movements. She shouldn't be in his house at all.

He couldn't tear his gaze away. Somewhere in his foggy brain he recalled knowing the type of martial art she was practicing, but he couldn't think, let alone come up with the name.

Her fluid movements took her through a complete range of motion. Her capable hands, rigid and taut, slid through the air. Her legs gently carried her petite form in a wide arc, yet her feet barely left the ground.

“Good morning, Josh.”

Even her voice flowed, graceful and calm. A shiver
sent him into action. Averting his gaze, he began to pace, his heavy boots ringing hollow on the hardwood floor.

“You shouldn't be here,” he said.

“Yes, I should,” she replied firmly.

He shook his head. “No. When Griff wakes, you should go.”

“You have a fire to put out, don't you?”

“The others can handle it.”

He hated contemplating not going to the station, but he hated having her entrenched in his house even more because it was only temporary. He didn't want temporary.

He wanted forever.

She smoothly turned to face him, her hands competently cutting the air in front of her. “You'd hate that, Josh.”

He stopped pacing and narrowed his gaze on her. “You think you know me so well, do you?”

A slight curving of her lips was her only answer.

“Rachel, I can't have you here anymore.” He winced at the almost-desperate note in his voice. He ached all over, from his heart to his toes.

“Sure you can. You need me.” She bent low at the knees, the hem of his old jersey riding up slightly to reveal firm muscle and curves. All the blood left his head.

“I don't need you,” he said from between clenched teeth. He wanted her in the most base of ways but he did not need her. No way.

“Sure you do.” She rose and rocked back on one heel. “You need me to stay with Griff.”

“You're killing me here, Rachel,” he choked out,
and tried to pry his gaze from where his jersey pulled tight across her shoulders.

She paused midmotion. A graceful statue, a work of art. A feminine smile curved her lips. He couldn't imagine her cold or distant at the moment. She glanced at him knowingly.

He was surprised he didn't just vaporize on the spot. “Rachel.”

“You didn't have a problem with me being here last night.” She moved again, a slow sweeping arc from left to right, her hands twisting through space.

“I didn't have a choice last night. You fell asleep.” He certainly had a choice now. But his resolve to make her leave was rapidly slipping and being filled with impossible thoughts. Thoughts about how nice it was to find her here, wearing his shirt. To have her in his house, willing to take care of his son.

“You said I could stay anytime.”

He frowned. “I did?”

“You don't remember?”

“Well…I vaguely remember getting up in the night. But I don't remember what I said.” He'd been concerned when he'd heard her bang into the hall table.

“Or what you did?”

He rocked back on the heels of his boots. “Did?”

She pulled her limbs together and executed a neat bow. When she straightened, a smile as bright as lightning lit her face. “You kissed me.”

He blinked, stunned by her smile. Stunned by her statement. He searched his memory; a fuzzy image of Rachel standing in the soft light flowing into the hall came to mind. He'd kissed her good-night. “I did.” He swallowed. That simple little kiss changed noth
ing. She still had to leave. Quickly. Before he got ideas about more kisses. “I'll wake Griff. We'll take you to your hotel.”

“I've already arranged for the hotel to messenger my things over.”

“Rachel.”

“Josh.”

He balled his hands into fists. “Why are you doing this? I thought you wanted to get back to your precious hospital and your big-city life as quickly as you could.”

She cocked her head to one side, her smile still in place, only a little less sunny. “We made a promise and I intend on keeping it. Right now, you need help with Griff.”

“I'll take him with me.”

She rolled her eyes and walked toward him, her bare feet small and graceful. His jersey swished against her knees. She laid a hand on his arm. “Let me do this. Please.”

He shouldn't. He should make her leave. But with those big, crystal-blue eyes staring up at him so imploringly, so…warm, he couldn't resist. He couldn't resist the pull she had on him. His poor battered heart sunk. “For Griff you can stay.”

She patted his arm. “Good. Now off with you. You have a job to do.”

He glanced up the stairs. “Do you want me to carry Griff down for you?”

“Don't worry. We'll manage.”

Yes, but would
he
manage? Josh worried he was making a mistake. He worried that his son would be hurt, that his own heart would not survive the next few days.

He worried he was losing his mind to allow her to stay. But she was right; he couldn't take Griff with him. He rationalized that another day couldn't cause any more damage than had already been done. So he allowed her to bustle him out the door. He'd deal with how to get her out of his life and his heart later. There was always later.

 

Rachel finished cleaning up the last of the mess she'd made while fixing dinner. The dark cabinets and gray speckled counters were wiped clean. The round kitchen dining table was set with four places. Fresh flowers in a jar added a sparkle to the room.

The aromas of warmed garlic bread and baked chicken with carrots and onions tempted her appetite. Where was Josh?

When he'd called earlier to check on Griff, he'd said he would be home around now. And when she'd said dinner would be ready and waiting for them, he'd sounded…put out. As if he didn't like the idea of her cooking. Did he think she couldn't handle the meal alone?

She chuckled. She'd put together a fancy feast. In fact, she'd found the domestic task shockingly pleasant. She would prove to Josh that she was not only skilled in healing but in the domestic arts, as well.

The whole day had been pleasant. She and Griff had watched a movie, he'd taught her how to play chess and she'd taught him how to play solitaire. They'd laughed and talked about sports, school and dreams.

Her maternal instincts that had kicked in days before were blooming full force, and she found this form of caretaking appealing.

As a doctor she was responsible to care for bodily injuries, but not emotional well-being. Fix 'Em And Move 'Em Out was the motto of the E.R. She'd always thought that was best for her. No attachments, no hassles. No risking of her heart. Always staying focused on making sure her mother hadn't died in vain. Her heart soared to know that she'd accomplished what she'd set out to do.

Now she was free to take the risk with Griff. And she was willing to take the risk with Josh, too. She'd come a long way in a short time. She smiled and glanced upward.
Is this part of Your plan, God?
She hoped her assumption was on target. There had to be a way to make Josh see that she could be a part of their lives.

The back door opened, startling her. She whirled around as Josh stepped through the doorway. He filled the frame; his towering presence made the air crackle with enflamed energy.

She loved to see him in his uniform. Loved the way the fabric hugged his muscles and the muted green color brightened his hazel eyes.

This morning when he'd come downstairs and watched her do her exercises, she'd had a hard time concentrating, because she'd only wanted to stop and stare at him like a hormone-driven teen.

She swallowed back the urge to throw her arms around him and welcome him home the way a wife would. She wasn't his wife. The hope that one day she might be his wife made her smile. “Hello.”

He stared at her in silence as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. “Hello,” he said, his tone cautious.

Had her expression given away her thoughts? She
schooled her features to impassive politeness. She'd have to tread slowly with him. Let him get used to the idea of having her around. “Dinner's ready when you are.”

He glanced around. “Wow, great.” He hesitated, then moved farther into the room, closer to Rachel. So close that she could feel heat radiating from his big body.

“Where's your dad?”

His expression darkened. “He's staying at the station.”

Though she didn't comment, she had a feeling she knew why Rod had stayed away. She smiled inwardly and reached to take Josh's jacket from him.

Their hands brushed, electricity shooting through her. Her gaze flew to his. He regarded her warily, his gaze searching her face.

She blinked and stepped back.
Slowly, remember. Don't spook him.
If lightly touching his hand put him on guard, what would an all-out kissing assault do?

She fought back an uncharacteristic giggle tickling her throat. Assaulting a man with her kisses. That was so unlike her. But this wasn't just any man. This was Josh. What would he do if she kissed him again? Her blood sizzled with anticipation. She just might have to find out.

 

“This is awesome, Rachel,” Griff exclaimed around a mouthful of chocolate brownie.

Josh watched his son with relief. He loved seeing the life shining from Griff's gaze. The ugly dark lump on Griff's forehead reminded Josh the situation could have been much worse.

And he was thankful for Rachel's stoic presence.
Her ability to remain calm, to think in the midst of a crisis. Her willingness to stay with Griff, despite Josh's objections. She touched Josh deeply.

“Would you like another, Josh?” Rachel asked, her voice smooth and satiny.

She held out the pan, her smile pleasant and her eyes amiable. She was a confusing mix of cold and hot.

When she'd first come back to town, he'd have sworn there was no heat in the perfectly sculptured icehouse surrounding her. But he'd seen glimpses of the woman beneath the ice, a woman who was open and friendly, gracious and kind. He didn't know what to make of the contrasting elements of Rachel. He looked at the chocolate concoction. “No, thank you. Three's more than enough.”

“They met with your approval?”

“Yes.” Was she fishing for a compliment? Interesting. “You're a wonderful cook.”

A soft hue of pink touched her cheeks. She looked pleased.

Griff chimed in. “This is great, huh, Dad? Wouldn't it be great to have Rachel here all the time?”

Josh's heart dropped to his toes. This was what he'd been afraid of. That his son would get ideas, get more attached. “Son, this has been nice. But Rachel's life's in Chicago. She'll be returning tomorrow or the next day.”

Griff scrunched up his face. “Why?”

“The fire will be under control and Grandpa and I will be able to come home.”

Griff shook his head. “No. Why does her life have to be there? Why can't it be here?”

Groaning inwardly, Josh glanced at Rachel. Why wasn't she helping him out with this? She'd gone motionless, her expression rigid and frosty. He frowned and turned back to his son. “Griff, Rachel's a doctor in Chicago.”

“She could be a doctor here,” Griff insisted.

Josh gritted his teeth. “Griff—”

“Couldn't you, Rachel? Couldn't you be a doctor here? Couldn't you live here with us? We could be a family,” Griff implored, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Josh clenched his fists. His son's heart was going to be broken. Anger—at himself for allowing this and at Rachel for wheedling her way into their lives—made his pulse pound.

And still she sat there cold as ice. Unfeeling and uncaring that she was destroying his son's young heart. He didn't even want to think about his own heart. Right now all that mattered was Griff. Josh needed to do damage control. “Son, please. Let's talk late—”